Deception
by joylss
Summary: Heartbroken after he knew the relationship between Dino and Hibari, Mukuro resolves to soothes his aching heart by drinking. Unfortunately for him that day, a certain white-headed Milliefiore leader came walking down his road... (drabble) 10069


_**Deception**_

Mukuro was not usually one for drinking, but tonight he found no other way to drown away the horrifying scenery in which did not cease from pestering him since he witnessed it a few hours before. He had tried all sort of ways, he really did, from going to pubs, forcing himself to meet new people, both women and men, to killing myriads of homeless street punks and gangsters behind dark alley lanes. It was a fight of one against a hundred, but as soon as sixty fell from the same hands, the remaining forty fled from the illusionist screaming in the same manner as one that has seen a ghost. Mukuro was then left alone panting, filthy and bruised and injured (but not heavily) from the battle, but very well in a good state. Though, even the sight of sixty bodies lying about him could not soothe the agony twitching and squeezing at his heart.

That night, no one else came to him. Not a single soul approaches him as he made his way through the dark busy streets in search of something else to soothe his aching chest, keep him sane after he lost the most important thing in his life. But however, no pair of eyes fail to stare at him as he brushes past them. The usual Mukuro would have paused and stared back and punish them for being rude to stare, but today he paid them no attention.

It was almost midnight when he found a stall by the street, empty of customers despite it was very clearly opened for business. He helped himself to a seat at the furthest corner of the shop, raising his hand to order a bucket of their strongest alcohol, when a man he did not notice in prior came right to his table and occupied the seat opppsite of him.

He wore an attire that indicated he was not one that belong to low social status. In fact, if Mukuro's vision was not already blurred from his restless actions, his head not already dizzy from the hit a pole delivered to him ealier in the fight, he would have took a shorter time to discern the white-haired monster that was now sitting, smiling, in front of him.

"Now isn't it funny to see you here," snickers the illusionist. "An old run-down winery by most remote corner of the city that people does not even bother to look at. Honestly, I would never have pegged you for the type."

The white-headed man clad in an expensive white vest over a black suit opppsite of him smiled. As if unwavered by the Mist Guardian's sharp comment. "Ne, of course not Mukuro-kun. I have been following you since earlier in the afternoon."

His words somehow shocked him, just as Mukuro opens his mouth to say something, the waiter came by with his order.

Byakuran looks at the huge bottles of strong liquor. Even for his level, it seem almost an overdose of alcohol. "Oh my, isn't that a little too much for one man to drink?"

"It's none of your business."

Mukuro grabs a bottle and pours himself a cup. So did Byakuran. Soon both was engaged in a wordless conversation that involved nothing but cups and cups of liquor and alcohol. And when the bucket was finally emptied, Byakuran raises his hand to order for more.

It surprised him, though, that Mukuro has a naturally high tolerance for alcohol despite this was his first time drinking uncontrollably. The Mist seemed to be in a really depressing state, although his facial features showed nothing to betray his true condition, Byakuran feels it all, and it somehow made the Millifiore leader wondered what in the world could make Rokudo Mukuro, a fearsome hitman since the age of fifteen, so upset to the extent that he was abusing himself - just like this.

It was only when the third bucket was emptied did symptoms of the indigo-haired man being drunk began to show. His cheeks were flushing red with heat, sweat rolls like little streams down his temple, and he began to babbling nonsense.

Or more accurately, a name he was supposed to have no whatsoever relation to.

"Hibari Kyoya..."

The Millifiore leader leans in closer. The illusionist had already collapse on the table as the last mouth of liquor slid down his throat. Byakuran leans his ear closer to the other's mouth, and Mukuro whispers again. "Hibari Kyoya... please... please don't fall in love with someone else."

Byakuran smiles, smiles against the curve of Mukuro's ear as everything that had once been a confusion to him fixes themselves in place and forms a complete story. How amusing, he thought, that one sentence, one name, was all he needed all along to complete this vast puzzle.

His head swivels back down to look at the drunk Mist Guardian. "Come," with a single word, he slumps an arm over his shoulder and helped the illusionist up on his feet, much against the latter's protest. "we must get you home, Mukuro-kun." said the devil as an evil smile played on his lips, dancing, twirling, an unspoken malice Mukuro would have tore himself from his arms had his eyes and mind were not clouded with the effects of alcohol.

It was not his own personal apartment, but it was owned under the name of the Millifiore. Being the leader of said familigia, Byakuran has the power to use it as he pleased. After the door closed behind them, he lays Mukuro on the couch. The illusionist's eyes blinks open when he felt the weight of the last Gesso sank beside his legs.

"It's quite unusual for us to end up in a situation quite like this, don't you think?" purred the Milliefiore with a seductive tone as his hand caresses the younger boy's cheeks, pausing at his visage as he turns the owners face to look at him. "Tell me everything, Mukuro-kun."

It took a moment for his words to sink it. By this time, most of the alcohol would have already wore off, Mukuro was capable of listening and answering coherently, that is if the Mist had wanted to wake up at all from his drunken fantasy. A drunk fantasy where Dino Cavallone did not exist. Where Hibari Kyoya truly, officially belonged to him.

"No.." Mukuro twisted and turned. Felt his muscles straining - the side effects from overusing and abusing his strength earlier, they had reached their limit. He wanted to leave the place, but no sooner did he managed to sit up from his position, he was once again pushed down by two strong arms.

"What are you doing?" He sneers, hands balled into fists striking out to hit whoever that was in his way. However, annoyance turned into a the sense of alarm rising in him when the same strong hands grabs hold of his arms and pin them overheard. Another weight was pressing down on his legs, an escape route does not exist for him. "Stop!"

"But you haven't answered my question, Mukuro-kun." The white hair and the shine of his ameyst eyes stood out from the darkness around them. Mukuro could see them clearly, felt the heat of those eyes burned his skin with an intense stare that he does not like.

After a few minutes of silence, when Byakuran had given up hope on achieving any answer from the illusionist, he leans down again, whispering into the struggling illusionist's ear. "It's all about Hibari Kyoya, isn't it, love?"

And it was all he needed to make Mukuro breaks out into a sob, weeping for the first time in years. It was the last touch Byakuran needed to confirm his theory was right. Neverthess, despite Mukuro's weeping protests, the white-hair devil leans in further to lick the wounds around his neck.

"The world is a cruel place, don't you agree?"

A hand slids from his arm and began pushing Mukuro's jacket off his shoulders.

"He will never love you back, no matter how much you love him."

Lips press themselves against his quivering mouth, a tongue slid into his mouth. Mukuro made no motion to push him away, but he did not respond those actions either. Just tears and more tears running down his cheeks.

"It hurts, doesn't it? So much that you would gladly die to end the pain."

Byakuran's hand slid down from Mukuro's arms -he was sure the illusionist no longer hoped to get away- down to his trousers and began unbuckling his belt. This time, Mukuro responds, a hand reaching out to stop Byakuran's hands from undoing his trousers.

"Ne?" The Millifiore leader looks up into a pair of, tearful yet emotionless, heterochromatic eyes. His hands ignoring the other hand as he pulls the zipper down. "If it makes you uncomfortable, you could just pretend I was Hibari Kyoya."

Mukuro closes his eyes and looks away, and did not stop the other one anymore when Byakuran rips off his trousers completely.

Perhaps just this night, he would allow himself to fall victim into deception, of which king he was.


End file.
